


dream a little nightmare for me before you sleep

by ObliqueOptimism



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Implied/Reference Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Relapse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Not Beta Read, Self-Esteem Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliqueOptimism/pseuds/ObliqueOptimism
Summary: Nightmares are nothing new to Klaus, but he's been having more, since they saved the world.He's not handling that well.At all.
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603255
Comments: 33
Kudos: 480





	dream a little nightmare for me before you sleep

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to y'all who know i'm sorry i'm drunk as i write this note, i may not be drunkl when i post it but i am when i make the draft my dears and i love you all and i'm so sorry
> 
> for the bingo: sleep deprivation

_the world was destroyed and it felt like home. the crumbled buildings still towering above his short stature, the smoke burning in his lungs, making his eyes water, and the silence. the silence that was soon filled with the sound of screaming. he was screaming. it was the end of the world and it was his home now and forever. this was his home now because he ran away from his last one and now he’d continue to run forward and towards something he didn’t know, only something he knew in his heart and it ached and it pulled him apart from the inside and no matter how much he screamed or talked to himself it never stopped it could never stop and was it his fault? if he hadn’t run away, he could’ve helped stop this and saved everyone? saved the world?_

_YES his siblings seemed to say, their dead eyes watching him run YES IT'S ON YOU but he’s just a boy and he didn’t mean to YOU LEFT US they gave chase then as he ran and ran and he can’t stop not until he saves them YOU CAN’T SAVE US LITTLE NUMBER FIVE, NO ONE CAN he’s not little number five anymore he’s five now, older and wiser than the 13 year old boy who had started running but it's his fault isn’t it? if he hadn’t started running he could stop but he can’t stop now not when he damned the world, damned his siblings._

_vanya caught him, grabbed his arm, YOU LEFT ME she screamed into his face, eyes white from death as well as powers, YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME YOULE FT ME YO ULEF TME_

Klaus woke up.

A choked scream died on his lips as he covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Jesus _fuck_ that was a bad one. God, since he got sober all he got were nightmares anymore. He had enough trouble getting to sleep, he didn’t want to not look forward to some hours of, what should be, bliss. Instead, night after night, nightmare after nightmare.

He’d shared a drink with Five the night previous. He didn’t get drunk, _no sir_. Not any more. No more fun for Klaus. But he needed something as he and Five talked about their respective loved ones. About the hell they’d gone through and how Delores and Dave were so helpful and how thankful they each were for their cherished D-named person. Klaus had fun with that, trying to come up with a tongue twister with Dave and Delores in it. It hadn’t gone very well, but he did get Five to actually laugh so that had been a nice way to end the evening

He ran his still shaking hand over his face and through his hair. No more talking to Five about trauma before bed, _obviously_.

Getting up, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and opened his window, sitting precariously on the window sill, feet hanging out, heels scraping against the brick, he lit up. 

It had started to become a nightly ritual.

Go to bed, tired and wanting some peaceful slumber, get a nightmare or two, sometimes it shifted from one theme to the next, and then he’d wake up, try to stifle a scream or his cries and then have a cigarette. He would wish for something more, always, wanting something more than nicotine but alas. He was _sober_ now. 

Behind him, in the house, it was quiet (as quiet as it could be with the ghosts). Everyone else off in dreamland like he wished to be while in front of him, the city still bustling, still alive and never sleeping. He knew it well and the noise and the chatter and the chaos called to him. He could stay awake out there, days at a time, not worried about nightmares. When he would finally rest, he felt like a baby doll. Lay down, close your eyes and then when next you open them time had passed. A toy for someone to lay down with as they slept, he was made of plastic and hollow inside. Head too empty to have dreams or nightmares.

Fuck he was tired.

After finishing his first cigarette he lit another, his last one. Why didn’t he stock up more on them?

“You should slow up on those.”

Oh, that was why. Ben was on him about cutting back instead of smoking about a pack a day. He’d been going through the first ten when he couldn’t sleep and then the other ten throughout the day. If you’d asked Klaus, _which no one did_ , they should be happy he’s smoking a pack of good ol’ nicotine cigarettes a day and no longer smoking crack cocaine. Or meth. 

He didn’t really enjoy meth though.

“You should shove it up your ass,” Klaus responded, tone as dead as his brother was. 

“Another nightmare?” Ben asked, sounding as if he was closer now. Klaus glanced behind him and sure enough, Ben was right there. “You haven’t slept through the night in weeks.” Not since he’d properly gotten sober.

“Y’know Benny boy, you don’t need to tell me that. I’d figured it out already,” Klaus rolled his eyes, taking a deep drag. 

His hands were still shaking.

“Maybe we should see if there are any old wives tales for stopping nightmares? Give them a try,” Ben suggested, leaning against the wall. “You’re not getting _any_ restful sleep at night. We need to try something.”

Klaus nodded, dropping his cigarette butt out the window and then started chewing on his thumbnail, “Drugs help.” Ben gave him Disappointed Face #7. “What? It’s true.”

“And a route we won’t take,” Ben said. Then he gave a thoughtful look, “Unless you see a doctor and they prescribe you something, _with_ the doctor knowing about your addictions.”

“You’re no fun,” Klaus blew a raspberry at him. 

“But first we should see if there are other suggestions for getting a better night's rest. You need some sleep bro. It’s really wearing on you,” Ben gave Concerned Face #3.

“No shit,” Klaus mumbled, turning away from the outside and closing the window as he stood up. “At least I have better makeup and can hide these dark circles.”

Ben snorted, “And then make darker circles with eyeliner?”

“Exactly. You get me, _mi amore_ ,” Klaus gave his best salacious wink. Ben was not amused. He so rarely was. Shrugging, Klaus turned the overhead light on so he could see better. Being awake so much earlier than the sun gave him the time to really do his best to apply his makeup. 

Not sleeping? No one would be able to tell. _No sir._

Or maybe they could because the first thing Diego said when he saw him was, “Did you sleep at all?”

Klaus blinked, taken aback, “Not really. I mean, of course I did. Fuck you, Diego. Mind your own business.”

Diego rolled his eyes, “You’re awake before me. So either you’ve relapsed and never gone to sleep, or you had a nightmare, _again_.” He poured himself a cup of coffee then brought the pot over to refill Klaus’s mug. 

Klaus had made his mug in the one pottery class he’d gone to. He’d gone hoping it would help with his sobriety: a hobby. While playing with clay was fun, he didn’t enjoy the class and never went back. He could easily just play with mud in the backyard if he wanted.

And he had.

No one had appreciated his mud pies.

“Well maybe I went out and helped myself to a little MDMA,” Klaus said haughty.

Diego snorted and shook his head, “You forget, I know what you look like on MDMA. And the flawless smokey eye? Not a MDMA look, bro.”

Klaus preened under the praise, raising his hands up to his chin and batting his eyelashes, “It _is_ a flawless smokey eye, isn’t it?”

“Less smudge and more smoke,” Diego agreed. He took his sip of coffee and coughed, “Jesus, Klaus. How strong did you make this shit?”

Klaus shrugged, “I’m only allowed a few drugs now. Speaking of! I’m out of cigarettes.” He put a straw in his mouth and pretended to smoke it, “Not the same.” He pouted and gave Diego Innocent Face # 19. 

He had many Innocent Faces to fall back on.

#19 worked well on Diego. #23 worked well on Officer Nicols while #4 worked best for Judge Tarpin.

Diego sighed, “Fine. I’ll grab you a pack today.”

“Diego dear, I need more than _a pack_. Also can I have a ride to the library? Ben thinks I should look up ways to stop nightmares before I blow my brains out to get a decent night of sleep.”

Diego sighed again, as if dealing with Klaus was a chore. Dealing with Klaus was not a chore! Klaus was a delight! _A pleasure to have in class._ If they’d gone to a real school that would’ve been what the teachers told Reggie, _for sure_. “Please don’t joke about that.”

Klaus started chewing on the straw he’d pretended to smoke, “What? Going to the library? I really want to do that? That wasn’t a joke.”

“No, about killing yourself,” Diego said. “I’ve had nightmares about that, man.”

Yeah.

So had Klaus.

They were weird, more nightmares where he was in someone else’s point of view as he watched himself jump off a bridge or deliberately take too many drugs or, yes, blow his brains out. Honestly the amount of times he saw himself die in dreams, by someone else’s hands or his own, was astounding. 

Klaus dealt with it fine, so could Diego. 

“Oh grow up! It’s not like I meant it,” Klaus rolled his eyes, pretending to blow out smoke from his straw cigarette. 

But maybe--?

No. Just because God sent him back once didn’t mean she’d do it again. And he really didn’t need to start thinking of that as a way to get a peaceful night’s rest. Nope. No. Not thinking about that option.

Death was not a reset option he could press.

“Klaus?” Diego was waving his hand in front of him. He had Worried Face #3. “Bud? You aren’t thinking about offing yourself, right?”

Klaus gave a reassuring smile. Or so he hoped, “No. Of course not. Just tired and zoned out on you.”

Diego didn’t look like he believed him. Which was rude! But fair, as he’d just lied. “You’re a shit liar when sober.”

“I’m a shit liar when tired,” Klaus groaned. “I’m so sleepy.”

“Still not sleeping, huh?” Luther walked into the room, ignoring the coffee and going to fix himself some tea. He’d learned the previous week that if Klaus hadn’t slept and made the coffee that it was strong. Stronger than Luther was.

He’d taken a sip and then spat it out, sat the cup down gently, and quickly stepped away from it, commenting about how he was surprised it hadn’t eaten through the mug.

Klaus thought it’d been hilarious.

“No, and I’m getting desperate. I’m going to go and _ugh,_ research ways to stop nightmares and get better sleep. Ways that aren’t shooting up,” Klaus would love to go shoot up and take a relaxing nap. 

His family did not feel the same though.

More's the pity.

“No shooting up with drugs or shooting yourself in the head,” Diego said, pointing at him. _“Got it?”_

Luther looked horrified, his eyes growing wide. He turned towards Diego and whispered loudly, _“He’s thinking of killing himself?”_

Diego nodded as Klaus threw his straw at him, “I am not! Fuck’s sake. Make one joke and now you get put on a fucking three day suicidal watch.” The straw hit Diego in the chest. He didn’t even acknowledge it.

“Who is on a suicide watch?” Vanya asked as she and Allison entered the room, giving worried looks around at everyone. “Is it Five? You could have waited until we were here to discuss this.”

“It’s Klaus,” Luther said. “I don’t know--”

Klaus shook his head and stood up, “No. Nope. A. I am not suicidal, I made a joke that Diego is blowing out of proportion. B. No one had better start following me around, worried I’m going to relapse or kill myself. _I’m just fucking tired._ C. I’m going to try and take a goddamned nap and none of you bastards better follow me, as previously stated, or come up with some sort of stupid plan to help me. I’m fine. I just need some sleep.” He glared at Diego, “Wake me up when you’re ready to go out and take me to the library.”

As he left he heard Luther ask quietly if they should let him storm off alone. So he turned around, walking backwards, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “I’m never alone! Not with Ben being a fucking ghost!” 

Forget that Ben wasn’t beside him at this particular time, but he really didn’t want any of them to try and follow him as he went to get some rest. 

Klaus stomped past Five who was giving him a calculating look and over to a sofa in one of the sitting rooms to lay down. He knew they were being caring and they were worried but if they did start a suicide watch he’d go more crazy than he already was. He really didn’t need them to go from not caring about him at all to _this_. Whatever _this_ is, it was too much too fast.

He woke to Diego shaking him awake.

Which was rude.

_He’d been sleeping._

Without! A! Nightmare!

 _“Fuck off,”_ Klaus growled out, pushing Diego away. He just wanted to sleep. 

“Get up sleeping beauty,” Diego shook him some more.

Klaus cracked an eye open and glared at him, “Why’d you wake me, you rat bastard?”

“You sure are calling us a lot of names today,” Diego commented dryly. 

“Sleep deprivation will do that to you,” Klaus yawned. “I’m not in a great mood because of it.”

“Still want to go on a cigarette and library run?” Diego asked.

Klaus nodded, stretching a bit, “Yeah, yeah. Still rude to wake me up.”

“It’s been five hours,” Diego said.

Klaus sat up quickly, _“It has?”_ He hadn’t had a nightmare. When he took naps during the day he rarely slept for long. Either the noise around him or, yes, his nightmares, waking him up. 

“Yup. Figured I’d shove a sandwich at you and then we’d head out, I have my own errands to do while you’re in the library,” Diego shrugged.

“Can’t you shove a McDonalds at me instead? Or a Taco Bell,” Klaus suggested.

Diego made a face, “Fast food isn’t good for you, bro.”

“It’s got lettuce,” Klaus argued back. “Ergo: healthy.”

 _“Jesus,”_ Diego whispered to himself as he stood up and walked away.

“Lettuce is healthy!” Klaus yelled at his retreating form.

Diego stopped at a McDonalds and then _bought Klaus a salad_. He smirked as he handed it over. Klaus stabbed the lettuce angrily with a fork as he crunched on the wilted lettuce as loud as he could.

When he was done with it, he closed the lid on the salad container and threw it in the backseat, missing where Ben was sitting, and grinned proudly at Diego, “Ate all my veggies like a big boy!”

Diego slammed on the breaks, “Just get out.”

Klaus turned and was happily surprised to see they’d made it to the library, “Thanks, boo. See ya when you come pick me up. I promise I’ll study real hard and get an A on the history test!” He snickered as he got out, Ben following behind.

Klaus went to the computers, ready to go and search for ways to stop nightmares.

_Put on some white noise!_

Stupid, dumb. He didn’t need more noise, thank you. The ghosts, his siblings, the house groaning and settling was enough to keep him up. More noise would just make him actually want to shoot himself.

_Don’t watch or read something scary before you sleep!_

Duh? Sure, last night he’d delved into some trauma with Five, which explained why he had a Five nightmare, but with how often he was getting them it wasn’t because of watching or reading scary things. Besides, when you went to bed with the dead screaming at you and standing over you, it was hard to block out any gore.

_Drink less alcohol!_

Thanks for that! _He already was._ Sure, he still sometimes had some, but he never got drunk anymore (boy he missed it). Possibly drinking _more_ alcohol would help. Then he could pass out and just wake up hung over the next day. He couldn’t say he’d not thought about that possibility before.

_Get enough sleep!_

Well that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t getting sleep _because_ of the nightmares. How was he supposed to get more of it? Stupid webiste with a stupid suggestion. _Just sleep more_ , get off your high horse and just fuck right off.

_Keep a dream journal!_

_Wake up naturally, or a tone alarm!_

_Visualise a safe place!_

_Try not to eat before bed!_

_Create a good bedtime routine!_

_Create a cozy sleeping atmosphere!_

_Get your child a security object like a stuffed toy or a blanket!_

_Put on a nightlight!_

Klaus groaned and ran his hand over his face.

None of this was helpful. All of them either didn’t apply to him or he knew they wouldn’t work. Besides, he did already have a nightlight. And he wasn’t afraid to tell people. His fear of the dark was very valid, thank you very much. 

Maybe he would need to go to a doctor and see about medication. 

Or, _god_ , a therapist.

“Maybe search how to sleep better?” Ben suggested. “Maybe that’ll give you something helpful?”

Klaus shrugged and changed from asking about nightmares to just generally sleeping better.

_Reduce irregular or long day time naps!_

But that’s when he tended to sleep the best. It wasn’t always guaranteed, still getting nightmares when he napped, but the odds were in his favor when it was a daytime nap. He wasn’t sure why, maybe he felt safer during the day? Either way, he tended to get at least a few hours (five hours!) of sleep when napping.

_Take a melatonin supplement!_

Not full on medication from a doctor, and all natural. He wasn’t sure where to get it. Didn’t sound like something his dealers would carry. He could ask Diego if he knew. It sounded like something normal people took to calm down before bed. Maybe it’d work like a sleeping pill without the prescription. He didn’t really want to get addicted to sleeping pills. 

_Restrict nicotine!_

Nope.

Next?

_Keep stress down!_

_Don’t talk about emotional things before bed!_

_Rule out a sleeping disorder!_

_Exercise during the day!_

_Don’t hang out in your bedroom during the day!_

_Try these breathing exercises to get to sleep easier!_

“I fear the only rest I’ll get is when I die,” Klaus moaned into his palms. He knew that wasn’t the case, as he could easily become a ghost like Ben, who never slept, or he’d get kicked out of the afterlife once more. But maybe he could actually _rest_. Maybe he’d be lucky. 

Like Dave seemed to be.

God he’d always slept well in Dave’s arms.

“Statements like that aren’t making me worry less,” Diego said, sitting down next to him. He patted Klaus’s arm, “C’mon bro. The nightmares will let up soon. It’s been weeks. A month? At least since we saved the world and you got sober. Maybe this is just part of that? They’ll calm down as you stay clean.”

“Says I should exercise more and take some drug called melatonin. Won’t stay clean if I do that,” Klaus frowned.

“Different type of drug. We can pick up melatonin at the same place we get your cigarettes,” Diego started rubbing his back. “You can exercise with me, try melatonin. Give yourself some more time before you try something drastic, alright? Just over a month ago you’d been in Vietnam, of course you’re getting nightmares.”

Klaus shrugged. He did have his fair share of Vietnam nightmares, often with Dave dying. Sometimes it was his siblings instead or alongside Dave. But he’d had just as many about his other trauma from the torture, the masoluem, shit he survived on the streets. Plus all the ones that seemed like they belonged to his siblings more than him. Like the one he’d had of Five just that morning. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m just--”

“Tired. I know,” Diego nodded. 

They’d gotten him many cigarettes and one small bottle of melatonin.

_NUMBER ONE YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR MISSION TO SAVE THE WORLD. IN ORDER TO DO THIS YOU MUST DESTROY ALL OF YOUR SIBLINGS. ANY OF THEM CAN CAUSE THE END OF THE WORLD. reggie said, looking down on him. he shook his head. no, no please, no, he couldn’t kill his family. there had to be another way to save the world, there just had to._

_oh but how did his hands get covered in blood. had he already done? hadn’t he already done it to ben? wasn’t it his fault that ben died in his arms? he could feel the warmth of the blood seeping into his skin, it would always be there, always bleeding, a curse of hands that never stopped dripping blood so everyone would know that he killed his family, all of them, because his father said to, because he was such a loyal dog that he didn’t question, he just did as he was told._

_YOU SAVED THE WORLD NUMBER ONE. HOWEVER THERE IS ONLY ONE LEFT. reggie handed over a gun and he took it in his hands and held it up to his_

Klaus woke up.

He grabbed his cigarettes and went to sit on his window sill once more. At this rate there would be a groove in the shape of his butt. He had trouble lighting his first cigarette of the day, his hands were shaking so much. He honestly expected to see them dripping blood, as in the nightmare. 

The exercises didn’t work, the melatonin didn’t seem to be helping, he was taking less naps, he even started hugging one of his old stuffed toys as he slept, Vanya gave him her weighted blanket. He was tempted to see if Allison could get her power to work even though she still couldn’t speak. Rumor the nightmares away.

God _please._

It’d now been about a month and a half since he’d had a decent sleep. That had been back in Vietnam. He’d slept better on a cot during a war with bombs going off and the bugs and the injuries than he did now. 

And fuck if it wasn’t becoming apparent.

He looked unhealthy. Not like when he had been on drugs, a different sort of unhealthy. Makeup having trouble hiding the bags under his eyes, his sallow skin, the lines he was forming around his bloodshot eyes. He’d been much more irritable and likely to snap at his family when they were just trying to help or go about their day. His depression had kicked up a notch and he knew that in the long run this could cause heart problems, high blood pressure, diabetes. He’d read that it would affect his memory, but he doubted it was worse than the damage the drugs had done. He’d also be more likely to get into an accident, his balance off.

He didn’t want to fall down the stairs and break his jaw again.

“Maybe after that cigarette you try and sleep more?” Ben suggested. “It’s only been a little over an hour.”

“I feel like I’m going crazy, Benny,” Klaus took a drag. “Am I going crazy? Is that why I’m getting nightmares every night? Maybe-- maybe I didn’t come back to life at the rave. Maybe this is hell. Ben, Ben, Ben-- you’d tell me if I’m in hell, right?”

“You aren’t in hell,” Ben tried to soothe. “This will pass.”

“ _When?_ I’m not a novice to nightmares, you know that. You grew up with me. But this is-- Ben, I can’t do this much longer. Something will happen, I know it. I don’t know _what_ but it will be something,” Klaus said. He felt like he was unraveling at the seams. He was going to crumble to dust and after that he’d get some 

God

Damned

Sleep

Weeks ago he’d made an off hand joke that caused the others to watch him closely for a few days, then they let off, realizing it really had just been a joke 

But

It was sounding less like a joke in his head now.

No, nope. He should try relapsing before killing himself. Maybe with drugs in his veins, messing with his mind, the nightmares would back off. Something else taking space in his brain, no room for the dreams and he could _rest_.

As a bonus the ghosts would be gone.

He nodded to himself, climbing back into his room, dropping his cigarettes on his bed, walking out and down the stairs.

He’d start with one of the many bars in the house. Drink himself into a stupor. All those advice sites talking about less alcohol were obviously dumb. He needed more. Then maybe score some weed. Just a small relapse of booze and pot. Nothing bad. 

Just enough to help him.

To give him control over the nightmares.

He ignored Ben’s pleas as he opened the first bottle he saw. He wasn’t picky on what he drank, not at this point. He’d had alcohol since “getting clean”, never enough to do more than get him buzzed. A glass of wine with the meal, a glass or two of scotch before bed. And he’d maybe snuck a joint or two in with his cigarettes, but what he was planning for the night was more than he’d done in a while. 

He’d stay away from the other street drugs, “Promise Ben. Just need _something_.”

The other ghosts started to go away when he was half a bottle down. He hadn’t even gone out and bought the weed yet but he already felt more relaxed. In a better mood. Maybe he could sleep soon. Finish the bottle and pass out.

He wasn’t passed out by the end of the bottle, so he grabbed a second. 

It tasted so much better than the first. He let out a happy hum when he found that out. “Is this some punishment from God? We know she doesn’t like me,” Klaus rambled, probably slurring some. Not that he cared about that, and Ben would be able to understand him fine. He wasn’t that fucked up. “I came back to life and she cursed me with nightmares. To make me go crazy? Is that it? Does she-- Does she want me insane? Because it’s working. I can feel it working. I can feel my brain going crazy.”

Maybe he could ask her. Go visit and ask her why she was doing this to him, beg her to stop. Begging wasn’t new to him. He had no shame, he’d beg for her to stop the nightmares, let him sleep, _please god_ , let him sleep. 

But no, wait on that. No. He wasn’t _suicidal_. 

Was he?

Was it suicide if he was going to come back?

He got up and started walking around the house, debating on what he should do. Ben followed and kept up his own begging and pleading for Klaus to listen, to go wake up a sibling. Worried Face #6 on full display.

But they were all sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t take that from them. They were so lucky. None of them tended to get nightmares, just Klaus. Always just Klaus. 

You’d think they would get some too, once a while.

He had to let him cherish their peaceful slumber.

Peaceful slumber sounded _fantastic._

Maybe instead of going and buying weed he would see what sort of sleeping pills they had on hand. Get that peaceful slumber. Sure, he knew that the pills could kickstart his addiction again, which was why he’d still been taking the stupid melatonin that didn’t help _at all_. 

But some sleeping pills?

Those would put him out and keep him out. 

He may have nightmares during the sleep, yes, but at least he’d be down for longer than an hour. He’d get seven to eight hours of rest. That was unheard of for him. Not for a long time. 

With another swig of the bottle that was already feeling lighter in his hand, he made his way to the infirmary to raid the medicine there. 

Klaus wasn’t sure when or how he got it, but suddenly he had a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a bottle of sleeping pills in the other. Shrugging, he sat the alcohol down so he could open the pills.

Ben was crying.

Asking him to wake someone, to stop, please just stop Klaus, get someone, anyone, wake them up, please. 

But Klaus just wanted to be asleep like they were.

Why would he wake them?

Klaus woke up.

He was in the infirmary, his family around him, some reading, some dozing, some playing on their phone.

Allison noticed first and slapped Luther beside her. He looked up from his book, “Oh thank god.”

Klaus blinked sluggishly.

He knew this feeling, the pulsing body, the sore throat, the upset stomach. But he couldn’t figure out why he’d had his stomach pumped. Why his family was acting like he’d OD’d again.

He’d had some alcohol and just a few sleeping pills.

_Right?_

“You gave us quite the scare,” Five said. 

“Sorry,” Klaus said, voice raspy. He idly wondered how much sleep he’d gotten. He woke without a nightmare.

Whatever Klaus had done worked.

Maybe he’d have to ask Ben what he had done so he could repeat it.

“Do you,” Diego paused, frowning, “Do you remember what happened?”

“Sorta,” Klaus shrugged. “Sorry, I just wanted to sleep.”

Diego gave a nod, Sad Face #5. The face of knowing that he knew the answer, even if it wasn’t what he was hoping for. “I know, bud.”

“Why didn’t you wake any of us up?” Vanya asked.

Klaus frowned. He’d never woken any of them up yet. Not deliberately. Why would he have started the previous night? He was handling it, wasn’t he? He’d gotten some sleep. “You were sleeping.”

“That’s why you would have woken us, so we could be there for you,” Vanya tried. 

“Or were you trying to kill yourself?” Luther asked. The others scolded him, “What? We were all wondering!”

The others were still yelling at Luther when Five spoke up, his voice quiet but cutting, “Klaus? You haven’t answered.”

“Can I just go back to sleep? Please?” Klaus asked. Of course he wasn’t trying to kill himself, but maybe he was? He couldn’t deny he’d thought about it. He fully understood why they were asking him, but he didn’t have an answer. He’d started taking the pills to sleep but maybe

Maybe he’d decided differently.

He couldn’t remember for sure, his memory was spotty, but they had to pump his stomach.

Was that just because they’d been worried that he’d taken it too far? Or _had_ he gone too far? 

He found he didn’t much care either way. Which should have scared him. He knew that, he knew he should be worried about the possibility of being suicidal. (Wasn’t he though? With how often he’d been thinking about it? Dreaming about it?) 

They didn’t let him be alone after that.

They took shifts, hanging out with him, helping him sleep, being there when he woke crying and shaking from the nightmares that weren’t letting up.

The nights were the worst. 

There was _always_ a nightmare and now one of his siblings would be awake with him, because of this curse, because of his stupidity, they were missing out on their sleep as well. It was unfair to ask that of them, he wished they would get the sleep he craved instead of keeping him company.

Allison was the first one to make him sleep in the same bed. _Maybe,_ she wrote, _you’ll sleep better if we cuddle._

He had woken up with a scream on his lips and tears in his eyes and she held him close. It was the first time when he had the nightmare during the night that he didn’t even end up smoking half a pack of cigarettes out his window. Instead he felt safe afterwards, not alone. He hadn’t gone back to sleep, and neither had she, but she held him.

It was nice.

Klaus was certain she’d bullied the others, all of them either making him sleep with them or they got in his bed. But Klaus saw how this affected them. They took turns all day and during the night, but the one near sleepless night when they watched Klaus was getting to them. They were obviously tired.

He worried about how they would handle the lack of sleep.

He didn’t want them to become like him.

He had to talk to them, get them to stop their support. Maybe he could talk them into giving him sleeping pills, only they would be in control of them so he didn’t fuck up again. They’d have to see how that would be for the best?

They didn’t agree.

_he was surrounded and they screamed and he was trapped and locked away with no doors no windows no way out THREE MORE HOURS NUMBER FOUR daddy said as he closed the wall and let only darkness in, darkness that he could somehow see through. he was surrounded by the ghosts, all of them calling to him and pulling at him, they could touch him, they could touch him, they could touch him_

_and then there, finally, he finally conjured dave. only dave yelled like the others, spouted hatred, his eyes full of wrath and a song of pain and he knew it he knew he was to blame for what happened to dave that he’d failed him, hearing dave tell him exactly how and exactly how he wished he’d never gotten involved with klaus to begin with and how exactly he wished klaus was different so that maybe he would’ve wanted to be with him forever but he didn’t and that's why he’d never shown up, why would he want to be with someone like klaus, even in death and_

Klaus woke up.

Somehow he didn’t wake Five up as he did. 

He gently crawled out of the bed and went to his window to smoke. Ben sat next to him in silence. He knew that Klaus didn’t want to wake Five up by talking to Ben. It was a miracle he hadn’t woken him yet.

Possibly the smoke, or the lack of another body in bed with him, but five cigarettes in, Five started thrashing in his sleep, frowning and making little distressed noises.

He was having a nightmare. Other than Klaus, nightmares in the house were rare. Klaus put out his cigarette and made his way over to soothe his brother, not wanting him to deal with a nightmare or to wake up from his sleep. 

Only he wasn’t able to help Five go back to a dreamless sleep and Five bolted upright, breathing heavy. He locked eyes with Klaus and reached out. Klaus met him half way, letting Five check for his pulse. It was something Klaus had always done, he wasn’t about to question it. 

They sat in silence for a while, Five’s hand still wrapped around Klaus’s wrist, pressing down to feel his pulse. Klaus wished he could go back to his window and smoke, but he knew Five needed him and the smell would not help anything. 

If Five’s nightmares were anything like the ones Klaus had from his point of view, the smell of smoke would not help at all.

“It was a recurring nightmare,” Five said. They’d never spoken about what their nightmares were, Klaus had never said what his were. None of them ever asked him what literally kept him up at night. “I’m in the apocalypse. The world was destroyed and it feels like home. I start screaming, realizing it's my home now. It’s my home and it’s my fault because I had ran away. Then you all show up, dead. You all agree that it’s my fault, that if I hadn’t left the family, if I hadn’t left you all--”

Klaus couldn’t breathe.

He’d had that nightmare.

He’d had it more than once. Usually twice a month, at least. It was about time for him to have it again, to see through Five’s eyes and feel the pain and the blame and to know it’s all his fault and--

Klaus couldn’t breathe.

He’d been having Five’s nightmare.

God, he’d been having everyone’s nightmares. It suddenly made sense why he kept having dreams from their point of view. He’d never put it together, he was so dumb. So stupid! Was he having their nightmares because he deserved it?

This had to--

This had to be a power. He’d gotten sober and since then he’d been having their nightmares. He hadn’t slept well since he got clean. The ghosts came, the nightmares came, _their nightmares came_. 

It was the only thing that made sense.

He had Five’s recurring dream. 

And he wasn’t asleep when his dream came this time, so Five had to keep it, had to have it. He’d spent the night having _his_ nightmare that he couldn’t have Five’s for him. How could he let his brother suffer like that when he could have--

Could he make them stop? Now that he knew it was a power.

_Why did he have to have only shitty powers?_

“Breathe, Klaus,” Five said, his voice cutting through Klaus’s thoughts.

Klaus took a shuddering breath.

“Good! Good! Keep breathing, Klaus,” Five coached gently. 

“I’m not-- I’m not having a panic attack,” Klaus argued. He’d had panic attacks before, this wasn’t one. It could easily have become one if Five hadn’t interrupted, so he was thankful for that. But Five needed to calm down too.

They sat there in Klaus’s bed, both breathing together, feeling each other’s pulse. 

“Five?” Klaus said hesitantly. 

“Yes?”

“I think I know why I’m having nightmares,” he whispered. Letting go of Five’s wrist he wrapped his one arm around himself, still letting Five feel his pulse. “Your nightmare? I’ve-- I’ve had it. A few times. Vanya ends up grabbing your arm and then starts screaming at you the most. About how you left her.”

“Klaus, what--”

“And I keep having these nightmares, Five. And most of them-- most of them aren’t from my point of view and they aren’t my memories and I see things I don’t think my brain is making up and it all makes sense. You got your nightmare tonight because I was already awake and I couldn’t have it for you,” Klaus felt like he was crazy. This couldn’t be real could it? Couldn’t be the answer?

But it made sense.

“You have a new power,” Five said.

“Another shitty one,” Klaus let out a wet laugh. “Why couldn’t it be cool? Like being able to fly? No, I get to be a nightmare sponge. _Yay._ ” He’d never get another night’s sleep would he? _“Five, I’m so tired.”_

“We’ll figure this out,” Five said, getting closer and wrapping an arm around him. “Now that we believe it’s a power, we can try to figure out how to let you control it. Block out our nightmares so you can get some well deserved sleep.”

“I can’t control my first power, why do you think I can figure this one out?” Klaus said. 

“We _will_ figure this out, Klaus,” Five repeated, Supportive Face #1.

It was later, months later.

Klaus woke up.

The sun had risen to midmorning, at least, he felt heavy with sleep, giving a small smile into his pillow, he rubbed at his eyes and sat up.

_He’d slept through the night._

**Author's Note:**

> obliqueoptimism @ tumblr


End file.
